Formal cause of nature.The formal cause of nature is the ideal reason; before the intelligence can produce species or particular things, can bring them forth from the potentiality of matter into reality, it must contain them “formally,” i.e. ideally, in itself, as the sculptor cannot mould different statues without having first thought out their different forms.[256] This ideal reason is the Idea ante rem of the Scholastics. The ideas of the intelligence are not, as such, the things of nature, they are the models by which the intellect guides nature in its production of individual things. Final cause.The final cause which the intellect sets before itself is the perfection of the universe, i.e. that all possible forms may have actual existence in the different portions of matter; from its joy in this end proceeds its ceaseless activity in the production of forms out of matter.[257]

Form.Among constitutive principles or elements of things, the intellectus again takes the foremost place as the form; for, as we have seen, it is both extrinsic and intrinsic to the nature of things, ... “the soul is in the body as the pilot in the ship; in so far as he is moved along with it, he is part of the ship, but in so far as he governs and guides it, he is not a part but a separate agent; so the soul of the universe, in so far as it animates and gives form to things, is intrinsic formal principle; in so far as it directs and governs, it is not part, nor principle, but cause.”[258] As external, the soul of the world is independent of matter, and untouched by its defects: it is only the perfections of the lower that are present in the higher being, and that to a higher degree. As internal it constitutes the soul in all things—down to the very lowest, although in these it is repressed or latent. This all-presence of soul does not mean, however, that each particular thing, e.g. a table or garment, is, as such, a living and sensible being, but only that in everything, however small or insignificant, there is a portion or share of spirit, animating it, and this, “if it find a properly disposed subject, may extend itself so as to become plant or animal, and may receive the limbs of any body whatsoever, such as is commonly said to be animate.” Even the smallest material body, therefore, has in it the potentiality of life and mind.

Substance.It follows that there are, strictly speaking, only two substances, matter and spirit: all particular things result from the composition in varying degrees of these two—are therefore mere “accidents,” and have no abiding reality. Bruno joins issue in this with the Peripatetics, to whom the “real man,” for example, is a composite of body and soul, or the true soul is the perfection or actualisation of the living body, or is a resultant from a certain harmony of form and of limbs.[259] Death or dissolution would mean to them the loss of their being; whereas neither “body nor soul need fear death, for both matter and form are constant abiding principles.”[260] This theory of substance and of immortality was regarded by Bruno as one of the cardinal points of his philosophy,[261] and one in which he differed most widely from Aristotle, as interpreted by him, and from the Aristotelians. Its statement, and the criticism of the Peripatetics, occur again and again throughout the works, and he believed the removal from man of the fear of death to be one of the greatest results of his teaching.—“This spirit, being persistent along with matter—and these being the one and the other indissoluble, it is impossible that anything should in any respect see corruption or come to death, in its substance, although in certain accidents everything changes face, and passes now into one composition, now into another, through now one disposition, now another, leaving off or taking up now this now that existence. Aristotelians, Platonists, and other sophists have not understood what the substance of things is. In natural things that which they call substance, apart from matter, is pure accident. When we know what form really is, we know what is life and what is death; and, the vain and puerile fear of the latter passing from us, we experience some of that blessedness which our philosophy brings with it, inasmuch as it lifts the dark veil of foolish sentiment concerning Orcus and the insatiable Charon, that wrests from us or empoisons all that is sweetest in our lives.”[262]

There is a certain ambiguity in the description of substance. Whether is the spiritual unity which is placed over against matter itself substance, or is it rather the particular souls which are part of it, and which are thus immortal, changing only the form of composition into which they enter? In this dialogue it seems Bruno is speaking only of the world-soul,[263] but in later works, especially in the Spaccio and De Minimo, the substantiality and immortality of the individual soul are categorically asserted. In the Causa however, Bruno maintains quite clearly the substantiality of the universal soul alone, the finite individual being merely one of the modes of its determination in matter.[264]

Having shown that no part of matter is ever entirely without “form,” Bruno leaves aside for the present the question whether all form (Spirit) is equally accompanied by matter. The form or world-soul is not more than one, for all numerical multiplication depends on matter. It is in itself unchanging; only the objects vary, the different portions of matter into which it enters: and although in the object it is the spirit or form which causes the part to differ from the whole, yet it does not differ in the part or in the whole. There are differences of aspect only, according as it is regarded as (a) subsisting in itself, or as (b) the actuality and perfection of some object, or as (c) referred to different objects with different dispositions.[265] That is, Spirit in itself,—the universal Spirit,—the Spirit or Soul of a particular animate being, the Spirits or Souls of a number of different beings (a system of beings), these are all the same thing looked at from different points of view. It is the same unique Spirit which determines the life of the human individual, the development of the human race as a whole, and the persistence of the world; the soul of Caesar and the spirit of humanity are one with the soul of the universe. The relation of spirit to matter in Bruno’s philosophy is more difficult to understand. Spirit is said to be neither external to nor mixed with matter, nor inherent in it, but “inexistent,” i.e. associated with or present to it. Moreover it is defined and determined by matter, because having in itself power to realise particular things of innumerable kinds, it “contracts” or limits itself to realise a given individual; and on the other side the potency of matter, which is indeterminate, and capable of any form whatsoever, is “determined” to one particular kind; so that the one is cause of the definition and determination of the other. Thus particular bodies are modes (determinations) of spirit and also of matter. As the universal form, spirit is all-present throughout the universe, not however materially or in extension, but spiritually, i.e. intensively. Bruno’s favourite illustration is that of a voice or utterance—“imagine a voice which is wholly in the whole of a room, and in every part of it; everywhere it is heard wholly, as these words which I speak are understood wholly by all, and would be even if there were a thousand present; and if my voice could reach to all the world, it would be all in all.”[266] So the soul is individual, not as a point is, but, analogously to a voice, or utterance, filling the universe. It is clear from these passages that the finite soul has no more reality in this phase of Bruno’s pantheism than in Spinoza’s; not only is the world-soul one as unique, but it is also one as indivisible—there are no parts of it: it is wholly in each of the parts of the universe—in each of its realisations. The finite individual, as this particular soul in this particular body, is accordingly a mere accident, and passes away as all accidents do; its existence is due chiefly to matter, by the varying “dispositions” of which the universal form is “determined” to this or that particular form; matter is in general the source of all particularity, all number and measure. The difficulty underlying this attribution of diversity to a matter which is supposed to be, apart from the form, undetermined and undifferentiated, has been referred to above. It is emphasised in the argument to this part of the Causa given in the introductory epistle,[267] where matter, although formless in itself, is spoken of as “consisting in diverse grades of active and passive qualities?” Bruno seems, however, at this time unconscious of the difficulty. Certainly from pure matter and pure form, body and spirit, standing over against one another, no start could be made. Diversity had to come into the world somehow.

We have not yet solved the problem as to the relation between these two principles themselves—matter and form. Bruno confesses to have held at one period the “Epicurean view that matter was the only substance, the forms being merely accidental dispositions of it; but on further consideration he was compelled to recognise a formal as well as a material substance.”[268] In fact, however, both form and matter tend as the philosophy develops to coincide in a higher unity which is at last the ultimate reality. The deduction of matter.The “proof” of “Matter” is from the analogy between Nature and Art. All who have attempted, said Bruno, to distinguish matter from form have made use of the analogy of the arts (e.g. the Pythagoreans, Platonists, Peripatetics). Take some art such as that of the wood-worker; in all its forms and all its operations it has as subject (or material) wood—as the iron-worker has iron; the tailor, cloth. All these arts produce each in its own material various pictures, arrangements, figures, none of which is proper or natural to that material. So Nature, which art resembles, must have for its operations a certain matter (material); for no agent intending to make something can work without something of which to make it, or wishing to act can do so without something on which to act; there is therefore a species of subject or material, of which and in which nature effectuates its operation, its work, and which is by it formed in the many forms presented to the eye of reflection. And as wood by itself has not any artificial form, but may have any or all through the action of the wood-worker, so the matter of which we speak, of itself and in its own nature, has not any natural form, but may have any or all through the agent, the active principle of nature. This natural matter or material is imperceptible, differing so from the material of art, because the matter of nature has absolutely no form, whereas the matter of art is a thing already formed by nature. Art can operate only upon the surface of things formed by nature, as wood, iron, stone, wool, and similar things; but nature operates from the centre so to speak, of its subject, or matter, which in itself is wholly devoid of form. The subjects of the arts are many—of nature one; for those being diversely formed by nature, are different and various, while the latter, not being formed at all, is entirely indifferent,—every difference and variety being due to the form.[269] As it is absolutely formless, this matter cannot be perceived by the senses, which are the media of natural forms, but only by the eye of reason. As visible matter, that of art, remains the same under countless variations of form,—the form of a tree becoming that of a trunk, of a beam, of a table, a chair, a stool, a comb, its nature as wood continuing throughout; so in nature that which was seed becomes herb; the herb, corn in the ear; the corn, bread; the bread, bile; bile, blood; blood again seed, an embryo, a man, a corpse, earth, stone, or other things, and so through all natural forms. There must then be one and the same thing which in itself is not stone nor earth, nor corpse, nor man, nor embryo, nor blood, nor anything else.[270] So the Pythagorean Timaeus[271] inferred, from the transmutations of the elements one into another,—earth into water, the dry into the moist,—a tertium quid, which was neither moist nor dry, but became subject now of the one, now of the other nature. Otherwise the earth would have gone to nothing and the water come from nothing, which is impossible. Thus nothing is ever annihilated but the accidental, the exterior, material form, both matter and the substantial form, i.e. spirit, being eternal.

Natural forms.The argument has proved that there is a something, the “I know not what” of Locke, which is the substance of all natural things, “natural forms.” We have now to see in what relation this substance stands to the forms, the differences, which are on its surface. All natural forms dissolve in matter, and come again in matter, so that nothing is really “constant, firm, eternal, or deserving of the name of a principle, but matter: besides that the forms have no existence without matter, in it they are generated and decay, from it they issue, into it are received again; therefore matter, which remains always the same and always fruitful, must be regarded as the only substantial principle, as that which always is and always abides; and the forms but as varying dispositions of matter, which come and go, cease and are renewed; therefore they have no claim to be principles.”[272]

The matter or material of which Bruno here speaks is what afterwards was called extension, or the extended substance, and the natural forms are the various individual shapes or bodies of nature: both from the transformations of one into the other, and again from the fact that the particular forms come into being and cease to exist, it was argued that there must be an underlying something, material indeed, but different from all the things we know or see, indifferently capable of becoming any one of them, persisting throughout their becoming, their change, and their ceasing to exist,—i.e. a permanent reality.

Matter as potentiality.Matter, however, meant not only “subject” or substrate, but also “potentiality,” or possibility: and we have to consider it in this light also. Everything that exists is therefore possible, and the possibility of coming into existence,—“passive potency,”—implies that of bringing into existence—“active potentiality or power”; the one is never without the other, not even in the first principle. First principle or absolute.Thus the first principle is all that which it has the possibility of being—in it reality and possibility are one; whereas a stone, e.g. is not all that it has the possibility of being, for it is not lime, nor vase, nor dust, nor grass. That which is all that it can be, the Absolute, is also all that any other thing is or can be: it embraces all being within itself. Other things are not thus absolute, but limited to one reality at a time, i.e. one specific and particular existence. They can be more only through succession and change. “Every possibility and actuality that in the (first) principle is as it were complicate, united, one, in other things is explicate, dispersed, many. The universe, which is the great simulacrum and image (of the first principle) is—it also—all that which it may be in its kinds and principal members, as containing all matter, to which no element of the whole (the universal) form can be added, in which no phase of that form is ever wanting; but it is not all that which it may be in its differences, its modes, properties, and individuals; thus it is a mere shadow of the first reality, and first potency, and so far in it reality and possibility are not the same absolutely, that no part of it is all that which it may be: besides that, as we have said, the universe is all that it may be only in explicitness, dispersion, distinctness, whereas its principle is so unitedly and indifferently, for in it all is all, and the same, simply, without difference or distinction.”[273]

Bruno works out at considerable length the paradoxes to which this identity of all possibility and all reality in the first principle lead. Thus, in magnitude it is both greatest and least, and as in magnitude, so in goodness, in beauty; the sun would fitly represent such a principle if it were at the same moment in all parts of the universe, if its motion were so swift that it was everywhere at once, and therefore motionless. God, however, is not only all that the sun may be, but also all that everything else may be—“potency of all potencies, reality of all realities, life of all lives, soul of all souls, being of all beings.” That which elsewhere is contrary and opposite, is in Him one and the same.[274] Bruno has brought us back in a curious way to the very first principle which he proposed to exclude from contemplation: it can be understood, it is true, only by negations, for our intellect cannot measure itself with the immeasurable: we can form no image or idea of a great that might not be greater. But here follows one of the most vital steps in his philosophy:—As the absolute possibility, the first principle becomes itself matter, and as there is no possibility without an actuality, present or to come, the absolute possibility is also absolute reality, Matter and form are one.or matter and form coincide in the One.[275] We approach this conclusion first from the consideration of matter as “subject” (substrate). From the changes of one natural substance into others we inferred a universal substrate, undifferentiated, which formed at once the basis of the community of nature in things, and the ground of their difference.[276] Matter or substrate of the spiritual world.But the spiritual and the corporeal worlds, also, as distinguished from one another, imply a common “subject” or substrate in which they are one or identical. Bruno refers, as we have seen, to Plotinus[277] as having held that distinction and difference imply a common ground or unity, and that “intelligible” distinctions are not exempt from this rule. “As man quâ man is different from lion quâ lion, but in the common nature of animal or of corporeal substance they are one and the same, so the matter of things corporeal, as such, is different from the matter of things incorporeal, as such: but from another point of view it is the same matter which in dimensions or extension is corporeal matter, and which when without dimensions or extension is an incorporeal substance. In things eternal (spiritual) there is one matter in one simple realisation, in things variable (corporeal) matter has now one, now another; in the former, it has at one time and all together all that which it can have, and is all that it may be; in the latter, at many times, on different occasions, and in succession. The former has all species of figure and dimension, and because it has all, it has none: for that which is so many diverse things, cannot be any one of them in particular. That which is all must include every particular existence.[278] In it, absolute potency and absolute actuality, matter and form, do not differ at all; it is the extreme of purity, simplicity, individuality, and unity, because it is absolutely all. It is individual in the highest sense. Being both matter and form, it is neither: as matter, it has all dimensions and none; as form, it has all formal existence or qualities and none. The corporeal matter is contracted to this or that dimension, whereas spiritual matter is free (absoluta) of dimensions, therefore is both above all, and comprising all. Thus matter in itself, being without dimensions, is indivisible: it acquires dimensions according to the nature of the form it receives: the dimensions under the human form differ from those under the horse form, and from those under the olive or the myrtle form. But before it can be under any of these forms, it must have in faculty all their dimensions, as it has the possibility or potency of receiving all the forms. In itself it includes rather than excludes all dimensions, because it does not receive them as from without, but sends them, brings them forth, from itself, as from the womb.”[279] In other words, Nature, under one aspect, is a spiritual unity, in which are comprised all possible differences, or all separate existences: under another it is these many existences themselves, in each of which, in succession, all differences are “realised,” all modes come into being: and finally, under another aspect, it is the force which brings forth the separate forms or existences out of the formless, indeterminate, undifferentiated unity of being, or God.